Anna sat back in her carriage on the short drive home and she still felt the anger flowing through her. It bristled in her fingertips and made it impossible to sit still. Make her wait. Indeed. As if she wanted to kiss him. But she did. She could try to deny it to him, but despite the irrationality of the situation, she wanted him to kiss her. Thoroughly. He’d come so close and she’d thought she would die from the impatience and sense of anticipation. She put her fingers to her lips. If only she had someone to speak to about the matter, but her mother would never understand, nor would her sister, Elizabeth. She supposed she could speak with Angela, but Anna doubted the girl would have any helpful advice in such matters, and they really only saw one another in school. Anna arrived back at home in time to rest for a while before the ball she had promised her mother she’d attend that evening.
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